History Lessons
by grumpyjenn
Summary: River and the Doctor have just been married. But what of all the companions who have gone before? Rated barely M  for honeymoon sex.
1. Now

The Doctor lay on his side, naked on TARDIS-blue sheets, admiring his peacefully sleeping wife. They'd been married only for a few hours (from his perspective), and he marvelled at his good fortune. What had he ever done to deserve this kind of love from her - to deserve _her_? He didn't believe in a deity - he'd seen too many proven to be simply more advanced aliens for _that_ - but he decided he would happily swear by _any _God, if that one was the God who had gifted him with River Song.

She stirred in her sleep, and murmured something he couldn't quite hear. He put his hand out, intending to soothe her back to sleep, but found himself running his fingers gently through her wild halo of dark blonde hair, revelling in the way it felt against his skin. So silky and crinkly and spicy-sweet. In his mind her hair was sort of a microcosm of River herself, unruly but sweet, larger-than-life but _oh so soft_. She stirred again, and he watched her lips curve into that half-mocking, half-sexy smile. Without opening her eyes, she murmured, "Hello, Sweetie," and stretched.

The stretch was interesting to watch - it suggested intriguing possibilities - and he felt himself become aroused again at the sight of her. He let his fingers slip out of her hair and down the curve of her neck to her breast, and he stroked the soft skin there until it became a hard peak. River's stretch transformed into greedily arching into his touch. "Mmm," she said, her voice slow and soft with sleep, "My love, are you really this insatiable? I've lost count..." Her eyes were still closed, but the sexy smile was definitely wider now.

"Two hearts," he pointed out, chuckling, "I recover quickly. And it's been centuries since I last, er... " He trailed off, embarrassed to say it, but he moved his questing fingers to the other breast, stroking until its peak was equally as firm as the first.

"Made love?" she suggested delicately, arching into his hand again. Her eyes were open now but heavy with sleep and desire. With aching slowness, he dragged the hand downward, caressing her skin and eliciting shivers and moans as he stroked her.

"Had sexual relations," he corrected, shaking his head, hair flopping into his eyes. "It's been considerably longer than that since I made love. If even then." This last was said under his breath, so quietly she almost didn't hear the words. She murmured his name - his true name - and turned to face him, sliding her own hands along his body, pulling his hips hard against hers. "River..." he breathed her name into her mouth as she nuzzled at his lips, nipping his lower lip gently with her teeth. _Her _hands were the questing ones now, stroking and caressing until he thought he would go mad with the sensations. He groaned as she took him into her body, and it was his turn to arch into her touch until they both cried out their pleasure in each other and slowly, slowly came to rest together, bodies limp with the lassitude brought on by loving each other for hours.

"Tell me what you meant," she asked sleepily, later, nestling her head on his shoulder.

"Hmm...?"

"You said you hadn't made love for 'longer than centuries', although you'd had sexual relations," she replied, candidly. "I know about some of those - Liz the First, for example, and there was a young noblewoman who liked to paint you in, um, heroic poses." She laughed as he groaned with embarrassment at _that _recollection. It wasn't hard to fluster him, but actually making him blush - _that _took talent. And practice. And she _so loved _to do it.

"Oh, _River_. How did you know about _that_?" He sounded scandalized.

"Archaeologist," she responded, still laughing.

He groaned again, avoiding her gaze. "You mean _that_ painting is still intact and on view somewhere? In _public_?"

"Well... _time_-travelling archaeologist. It was still shown in galleries in the early 20th century, my love, but I haven't seen it anywhen after, oh, perhaps the Blitz?" She was still chuckling. She heard him mutter something about _other reasons to have a deity to thank_, and decided to relent; he was adorable when he was embarrassed, but no sense in overdoing it. Besides, he was avoiding the more serious question. She sobered. "I _am_ an archaeologist, my love, so I know _about _many of your... adventures, but I don't know much about _them_. The people them_selves_. I know some of their names, and I know a bit about the most... notorious of them-" She broke off and grinned at him as he flushed with fresh embarrassment - he was pretty sure he knew which of his friends she was talking about - but she quickly became serious again. "I want to know _you_, and knowing _them_ will help. Tell me about them?"

The question disturbed him, but he was honest enough to acknowledge that it was a reasonable one, especially for someone brought up - more or less - as a 21st century human on Earth. At least for _bits_ of her upbringing, the bits when she was Mels. Earth humans of that era were obsessed with each others' sexual and romantic histories and... wait. He was getting a little far afield. _Focus, Time Lord_. She just wanted some knowledge of her husband's friends and family. He could tell her the highlights without hurting her or making her jealous, he was sure of it. So he began to speak, haltingly at first.

"Long ago, in my first incarnation, I stole a TARDIS - or she stole me - and I had three companions. Or assistants. Or... _friends_. Their names were Susan, Barbara, and Ian..."


	2. Long Ago

"Susan was my... my granddaughter," the Doctor began tentatively. River was amused by the thought (although she knew he was at least a thousand Earth years old, he just looked so adorably _young_) but she quickly hid the smile rather than interrupt his story. "At least, her human name was Susan, and _granddaughter_ is as close a term as any. She went to school on Earth, and she met the other two there, Ian and Barbara. They were my first real companions, in the sense that humans use the term... my _travelling companions_. I prefer the term _friends_, personally, but I see them as... I don't know..." He trailed off.

"I think I do," said River, smiling at him. She kissed him lightly. "To most of them - the ones I've seen - you're a... a benevolent uncle, the sort who takes the children on outings and buys them too many sweets. And you view most of them the same way, as though they were nieces or nephews."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Usually, yes. Sometimes the relationship is closer... as with Susan, and Dodo and Jamie, Jo, Leela, Romana, oh, and the Brigadier, Ace, a few others." She noticed that he avoided mentioning _her_... Rose. And Donna, but she knew what he'd had to do to Donna, and she didn't blame him for the omission. "Sometimes it's... different," he offered. "Sometimes on my part and sometimes on theirs. Your parents, now... Amy still fills that role of the niece, but with Rory... with Rory sometimes it's the other way 'round..." His expression was suddenly tired and sad - the expression he was always quick to hide. But River caught a glimpse of it, and she kissed him again. He wiped the frown from his face and smiled at her. "I expect it's that on some levels Rory's twice as old as I am," he said briskly, as if to erase even the memory of that momentary expression, "so when he chooses to pull the Last Centurion out... well!" He rolled his eyes as though to say the Last Centurion was just silly, and moved in for a kiss.

_He_ kissed _her_ this time, and she sensed that he was trying to distract her from whatever he had been going to say about her father. That was usually the case when he initiated a kiss. She gave an internal shrug and kissed him back, but after a bit, she pulled away slightly and smiled that sexy little smirk at him. "My love, I would love to kiss you for hours - and we _have_ - but honestly, I'm famished. D'you have any food around here?"

"Fish fingers?" And he went all boyishly sweet and enthusiastic again.

"Mmm - I'd rather just have the custard, myself."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

They sat companionably side by side on the sofa in the kitchen, wearing TARDIS-blue dressing gowns and eating from a common bowl of custard, although River chose to use a spoon in spite of the Doctor's entreaties to just_ try_ the fish fingers, really, they're quite tasty. She just smiled at him and shook her head. He was in a silly mood now, and she wanted to keep that feeling, so she gently nudged him back toward his story, choosing a companion - no, a _friend _- that she knew had been one of his favorites, and whose story wouldn't hurt him as so many of the others would.

"Sarah Jane?" he asked, "Sure. Saw her a few years ago, actually. One of her friends - young human, name of Clod? No... hmm... Clyde! Yes, Clyde, that's it! He'd absorbed some artron energy from the TARDIS a couple years before, and we'd switched places and... right, right, Sarah Jane. Oh, and Jo. Saw them both that time, it was lovely. Anyway, yes, Sarah Jane. She was great, really, lovely person, just... kind. A truly good person. Journalist, on Earth, which is how we met... she was investigating UNIT and, she stowed away on the TARDIS! Can you imagine that? Just twenty-three and she stowed away on an alien time machine! Granted, it was shaped like a police box, but still!" River smiled at him. He was so obviously fond of Sarah Jane, and so proud of her in that avuncular way (which, since he looked about twenty-three himself, was always sort of incongruously adorable).

"After she had to leave in my... hmm... fourth regeneration... she started protecting the Earth from aliens. Not with Torchwood, not with UNIT, just on her own, with some neighbourhood kids and a sonic lipstick. Oh, River, you'd love her, she's like you, clever and pretty, except, you know, _sweet_ and nice-" He stopped as River burst out in that rich laugh of hers, and he put his head in his hands as he realised what he'd said. "Oh no, oh no no no no no..." River had tears running down her face now, from laughing so hard, and she was holding her sides and rocking in her seat. He dropped onto his knees in front of her. "Please, River, _please_ tell me I didn't just say that out loud!" She just kept laughing, having trouble catching her breath now, and he groaned in mingled embarrassment and amusement.

She made an attempt to control herself, but little bursts of laughter kept escaping. "Sorry, my love, but you did," she managed, "I hope you don't think (chuckle) I'm offended (giggle) at the truth." She smiled at him, and leaned down to lap a wayward spot of custard off his upper lip with the tip of her tongue. He tasted of vanilla, and spices, and Time, and as she nibbled at the lip he shuddered, his hands groping at the air of their own accord, until finally they wove themselves into her wild hair. He whimpered into her greedy mouth and dragged her down off the sofa into his lap. Neither of them noticed the precarious position of the bowl of custard. "Mmm..." She wriggled deeper into his lap and he writhed against her, gasping as she toppled him onto his back, and groaning her name as she impaled herself on him. And then they began to move together, over and over again, until they peaked as one.

"I don't think," said the Doctor several minutes later, rather breathlessly, "that even Jack Harkness has the kind of stamina we've shown today." He smiled at River, who was lying limply across his body, and suggested they go wash the custard off, as the bowl had overturned while they were... busy.


	3. Recent Past

It took several minutes, much giggling, and a certain amount of using each other - and the walls - for support to get to the bath, even though the TARDIS had obligingly moved the door to it nearer the kitchen. They got themselves clean, settled into bed again, and lay, facing each other, heads propped up on hands. Recalling his earlier remark, River rather suddenly said, "Doctor, I've heard _lots _of stories about him, you know... Captain Jack Harkness. Is he really from the 51st century and thousands of years old in the 21st? And in charge of Torchwood Three and as... indiscriminate... as the stories say?" She smiled at him and he was reassured that this was the historian-River more than the woman-River asking these questions. Oh, the woman was interested in the answers too, but the historian side of River was in charge here. So he relaxed and smiled back at her.

"Hmm..." The Doctor mused, "Yeah, he's from the 51st century, all right, and he'll tell you that's the reason for his er... sexual magnetism. Often and as many times as you'll hold still for it, the old rogue. In charge of Torchwood Three, yes..." and he trailed off, looking sad again, and far away, as though he wasn't really talking to _her_. "He's saved the Earth more than once too... but he had to make..." His voice broke and he closed his eyes against the wave of sympathetic pain and shame and guilt that hit him. Jack had been so... so _broken_, after the incident with the 456, and he - the Doctor - he _hadn't been there_ when his friend needed him.

He didn't realize he was crying until River reached up and pulled his head toward her, kissing a tear off his cheek. "I was there, you know," she said in a very soft voice. "As Mels, I mean. We were out of school by then, but not really all that old. It wasn't your fault. You can't be everywhere - every_when_ - at once. Not even you, my lovely Time Lord." She drew him to her and kissed him, but she knew he wasn't done beating himself up. She sighed. He'd lived a long time, and he probably had a lot to feel guilty for. But this mood usually meant he couldn't remember the million and one _good_ things he'd done.

But he surprised her by smiling at her... even though she knew it was at least partly an act put on to preserve the mood. _Rule One_, she thought. _The Doctor lies. Especially when he feels it's for your own good_. "Right!" he said, briskly, doing a poor job of covering his emotion. "Anyway, yes, Jack Harkness. He's brash, and fun, and yeah... indiscriminate as to sexual partners. In fact, when we first met, it was hard to tell who he wanted more, me or Ro-" He broke off again, looking horrified at himself. _Oh_, River thought, _here it comes. My poor lonely Time Lord_. She took a deep breath and smiled at him.

"It's all right for you to talk about her, my love," she said simply. Her tone was very quiet, even soothing, but... _but I don't want to hurt you, my beautiful River Song_, he thought, _please don't make me do this! _"Truly, Sweetie, it's all right. I know you loved her."

He groaned. "River, I... you don't understand. It's not that I _loved_ Rose... it's that I... River, I _don't want to hurt you_!" His voice was anguished and he had tears in his eyes again. She squeezed his hand encouragingly.

"Tell me, my love."

His voice dropped to a shamed whisper. "It's that I... _I still do_. I'm sorry." He shut his eyes again, because he couldn't bear to see that expression on her face. The one from Stormcage, after she had kissed him and he had run away. _This is River_, he reminded himself._ I never know how she'll react. I hope she isn't too angry. I hope I haven't hurt her too much for her to bear_.

He wasn't expecting the low chuckle. It sounded tired, but his hearts lifted as he slowly realized she was neither hurt nor angry. He felt her fingers trail along his jaw and opened his eyes just as she kissed him gently. "My sweet love, it's _you_ who doesn't understand," she whispered, "Your love - your _continuing_ love - for people like Rose Tyler and Sarah Jane Smith and, yes, even Jack Harkness... that love is what makes you... _you_. The wonderful, crazy, sweet and _impossible_ man_ I_ love." She kissed him again, more seriously this time. "Sweetie, Rose Tyler was exactly who you needed at the time, youth and sweetness and innocence... someone to prove to you that there was more to your universe than destruction and pain. Of _course_ you love her. You always will, on some level. And that... that's _fantastic_." She smiled at him, and he smiled back, rather more tentatively, and impulsively hugged her tightly to him, feeling his hearts beat against her bare skin.

Eventually he began to place tiny little butterfly kisses along the curve of her ear, pausing briefly when she gasped and then started to giggle. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, concerned, "Or just tickle?" He relaxed when she smiled at him.

"No, my love, but... can I be honest with you? No Rule One for the moment?" He nodded, earnestly, his hair flopping into his eyes again. She reached up and brushed it back with one hand, trailing the fingers down his cheekbone. "Sweetie, I'm just too _tired_. You've worn me out and I-" She broke off as his hand covered hers on his cheek, and he gently moved their joined hands down to cover one of his hearts, then the other.

"I'm not. You just relax, my beautiful River Song, and let me do all the work." He eased her back into the embrace of the TARDIS-blue pillows and kissed her nose, then kissed her softly on the lips. "Oh, my lovely River," he breathed, "You are so precious to me..." And he brushed kisses, feather-light, over her mouth, her face, her hair, her neck, her shoulders. He loved the way her breathing sped up at his attentions, even when she was lying there passively, even though _passive_ wasn't her style. He loved the way her hair lay wildly about her, dappled like her namesake in the dimmed lights of the room. He loved the way she shivered lightly as he brushed his lips against a particularly sensitive spot where her jaw and neck met.

River shivered as he nuzzled that sensitive spot between her ear and her throat. This was a new experience for her, this gentle and passive lovemaking, being _made love to_. She was used to being the aggressor, or to _loving each other_, but this... this _being loved_... it was _wonderful_. His hands were moving over her skin now, so _so _slowly, touching with the utmost delicacy, as though he was afraid she would break. She arched her back to meet his touch, moaning as his hands began to move faster, to caress her in places she wasn't expecting, and she had no idea what part of her he would stroke next. And as she whimpered and writhed under his hands, he entered her body, and they moved as one, with breathy moans and little cries and soft groans and murmuring each others' names.

At the end of their loving, he held her face in his hands and kissed her, and in her mind, she heard_ my beloved River Song, always and completely_.


	4. Now Again

River Song lay on her side, naked on TARDIS-blue sheets, admiring her peacefully sleeping husband. He was beginning to realize - she hoped - that this was not the usual sort of infatuated admiration that a companion (or a _friend_, she smiled to herself) had for a powerful Time Lord. Theirs was a marriage of equals, and she loved it as much as she did him. She would let him sleep. The day had been very full, of loving and of pain, and the last bit had been a lot of both... for him especially.

The Doctor stirred, and stretched, and she smiled at him as his eyes fluttered open. "Hello, Sweetie," she murmured, and he returned her smile.

"Hello, my lovely bad girl River." He tapped her nose affectionately and their mutual smiles turned into something closer to goofy grins. _This is going to be the best time_, thought the Doctor, _the time when we move almost in sync, and our timelines are closest together_. He ran his hand down her torso suggestively... and ended the gesture by tickling her ribs, eliciting giggles and little shrieks of indignation. The tickles turned into caresses, and the shrieks into little moans of loving, a mutual pleasure in each other's bodies and minds and hearts and company, until they lay exhausted once again. "Mmm..." He stretched again, and flung one arm over River, hauling her in to lie spooned in his embrace, and they slept.

When River awoke again, she found herself facing him. His face was intent, and his hands finger-combed her hair gently, wrapping strands of it around his fingers and letting them spring back. She smiled drowsily at him. "So," she said sleepily, "You never did tell me about the most important Companion of all." And she was shocked to see how rapidly his face could change to a stunned mask of pain and grief.

_How... How _could _she?_ he thought, riding a sudden wave of fury and pain, _and in such a casual, teasing tone of voice, like it didn't matter, like it hadn't nearly _destroyed _me! _"I don't want to talk about Donna!" he all but shouted at her, and he was up and out of the bed faster than she could react, stumbling to the bedroom door and trying to wrest it open.

It wouldn't budge.

_Oh no_, thought River frantically, _what have I done?_ She practically leapt out of the bed after him and didn't stop to put on a robe. She threw her arms around him as he struggled with the door, too distressed to find his screwdriver, tears running down his face. "Oh, my love," she whispered urgently in his ear, "I didn't mean Donna Noble, please, _please_ listen to me, please, Sweetie, you know I wouldn't hurt you like that, not deliberately, _please_!" There were tears on her face now too; she pulled him away from the stubborn door and they tumbled to the floor. He curled up there, shaking, hands over his face, and she put her arms around him again and murmured soothing nonsense into his ear until he stopped shuddering with remembered guilt and pain.

Eventually the Doctor sat up, scrubbed the tears off his face with his hands, and - without looking at River - half-whispered, "I'm sorry. I... I thought..." He began to wave his hands around in that helpless way, the way he had when he was at a loss for words, and she caught one of this hands and brought it to her lips.

"It's all right," she murmured against his fingers, "You thought I was teasing you, making fun of... well... what amounts to the death of the only sister you ever had. Hysterical ranting was not uncalled-for." She smiled at him. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I know what... what you had to do to keep Donna alive, and I-" She broke off as he kissed her, trying to _show_ her that he knew she hadn't intended to bring all that up from his past. He realised - now - that she wouldn't do something like that; if she felt the need to bring up his past mistakes, she would only use those mistakes where he had hurt _her_, not those of the countless friends he had had before they met. But he hadn't trusted her, _again_, and he was terribly afraid he had hurt her. _Again_. So he needed to _show_ her, he needed her to understand that he hadn't meant it, he'd misunderstood, and so...

And so he kissed her.

And she kissed him.

And everything was all right again.

He let out a sigh of relief. "River? I don't mean to pry, especially after all _that_, but, well... oh never mind, it's not important, rubbish question-"

"Oh, shut up," River interrupted, smiling. "You know I'll tell you as long as there aren't spoilers."

"Er... well, if you weren't talking about Donna, and we've already touched on Rose and Susan and Sarah Jane and the rest... then who did you mean by 'the most important Companion of all?'" He looked uncomfortable. "I mean, you're not exactly _modest_, but I don't think you were talking about yourself, and you're certainly the most important _now_, and well... who did you mean?"

She laughed. "Work it out, my love. Who's been with you all along? Who's basically your wife _and _your mother? Who do you go to when your other friends aren't available?"

He stared at her. "But... but you already_ know_ all about her."

She laughed again, shaking her head. "Go on, my love, tell me how _you_ feel about her, your Sexy Old Girl. I love her too, but I want to know her history. Her history with _you_."

So he did. He told his wife about his _other _wife, the one person who understood the timey-wimeyness of his universe better than he himself did, who had been with him for hundreds of years, who had known him through all the other traveling companions, from Susan to River.

Who had loved him and cared for him and taken him where he was needed.

Right now that place was here, with _them_, his new wife and his longtime companion.

And River was happy, together with her madman and his box. And the Doctor was happy, together with his loves. And the TARDIS was happy, with her beautiful thief and the child of her heart. And together the three of them traveled the universe; a woman, and a madman, and their box.


End file.
